In Keeping Secrets of Silent Earth
by PlainsParadox
Summary: Sometimes, it's not what we say but what we don't say that's important. Matt/Mohinder, Molly.


**Title:** In Keeping Secrets of Silent Earth  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Spoilers:** No spoilers per se, Though there is a scene straight from "Kindred" in season 2.  
**Summary: **Matt Parkman has become a connoisseur of unspoken secrets; of those things we keep in our mind and dwell upon and keep safely hidden from tips of tongues.  
**Pairings:** Matt/Mohinder  
**Author's Notes: **This was originally a poem (the first poem I ever wrote and gave to someone, actually.) It was published recently, and when I was reading it I got inspired and it transformed into this story. As always, constructive criticism and other comments are greatly appreciated.

Sometimes, it's not what we say but what we don't say that's important. No one knows this better than Matt Parkman. Lately, he has become a connoisseur of unspoken secrets; those things we hold in our mind and dwell upon, kept safely hidden from tips of tongues. Sometimes they're small things, like Cliff, who inflicts death metal on the entire precinct whenever he's in the office, also knows every word to what seems like every Disney song ever written. Even while listening to howling guitars and screaming front men, he's singing "Part of Your World" in his head. Sometimes they're bigger though, like the man who was brought in last night that ardently refused to confess to robbing a local electronics store, all the while screaming in his mind, "Don't look in the trunk. Don't look in the trunk. Don't look in the trunk…"

The more Matt listens, the more sure he is that the things people don't say are the only things that really matter. For instance, when Margot in the next desk over was told she would have to stay late tonight, she didn't say, "No. No, please not tonight. This is my only week with my son and tomorrow Jake's taking him back to Utah." And when the waitress at the diner Matt went to for lunch was being hit on by a seedy customer, she didn't say, "Jesus, I didn't sign up for this. Just pay your tab and keep your hands off me."

Would anything be better if we spoke the words we shouted in our minds? Would they be different? Matt wasn't sure, and he had his share of unspoken words as well. Like when Mohinder called to give him and Molly the nightly update on his world tour, Matt doesn't say, "I keep dreaming about you," or "I get anxious when I don't talk to you for an entire day." He didn't say, "Don't go. Please, oh, don't go. Don't go," when Mohinder left, because what would he think then?

Matt Left work to pick up Molly from school. He has to work strange hours to pull it off every day while Mohinder was away. Sometimes he was late and had to pick her up from the after school childcare program in the church next to the school, but it was important for him to be there every day. He wanted Molly to know that, no matter what, even if he was a half an hour late, she could always count on him to come for her and be there when she needed him. It was something he never had growing up, and it was something she lost when her parents were killed, and Matt thought it was important to give her some sense of security and stability whenever he could. He needed her to know someone always loved her, and that was something he did say every time he had the chance. And Molly did know all these things. You could see it in the impatient foot tap and the expectant stare as he rushed in to get her at 3:40, while she wasn't saying, "I looked for you eight times today. I was afraid the Boogeyman found you."

They boarded the subway as usual, Matt firmly holding Molly's hand. He listened to Molly's streaming monologue about her day at school. He did his best to keep up with the names and what she was doing in her classes and who her Best Friend Forever was this week. After she'd exhausted every detail of her life in the last 8 hours since she'd seen Matt last, they drifted into a comfortable silence and Matt allowed the thoughts of the other passengers to wash over him.

Most days it was just things like grocery lists, recaps of earlier conversations, frets about money – normal, everyday thoughts. Then sometimes people's thoughts would really surprise him. Like the timid looking woman, hair in curls, dressed in pink, whose passive face would never indicate that she was remembering, in intimate detail, handcuffing her boyfriend to the living room chandelier while she smacked him with a switch and made him call her "Mistress." Another time there was the man who gazed 

enviously at a woman's red, stiletto pumps while replaying in his head a scene from his teen years of his mother walking in on him wearing one of her dresses and lipstick while she shouted "Why can't you be a real boy?!" Other people's thoughts could bring Matt to tears.

It was worse when he overheard prayers. Though he tried not to listen, doing his best to drown them out by focusing on the thoughts of other people around him, prayers were just so much louder, so much more intense than "To Do" lists and budget plans. Sometimes they were small prayers for simple things – "Please help Sarah with her quiz today. We both know she studied all night" – Sometimes they were selfish – "Let these be the winning numbers, God" – sometimes they were downright detestable – "Please Lord, don't let my daughter's new boyfriend be black" – but usually, they were desperate.

"Please let it be negative. Please let it be negative. Please…"

"Can tonight be the night Dad comes home? I promise I won't cry anymore…"

"If you're really there, why did you let him come in me?!"

"Please God, don't let the cancer kill her. I'm not ready to say goodbye…"

"I cut myself again today. It just kept bleeding and bleeding and I almost didn't want it to stop. Are you listening? Do you love me? I need an answer soon…"

It could get overwhelming. Sometimes Matt would lock himself in the bathroom, turn the shower on, and let the sound of the rushing water clean out all the despair he absorbed throughout the day. It was hell on their utilities bill, but a small price to pay for his sanity. On days like that Mohinder would have Molly go play quietly in her room while he cooked some good old American comfort food.

Despite his overpoweringly on-track mind, Mohinder could be incredibly considerate at times. He would do things like take Molly to the park when Janice (or her Lawyer) would call to work out some detail of the divorce, or set some aspirin by Matt's dinner plate when it had clearly been a rough day. Then Matt would do things like remind Mohinder to change clothes or eat when he got to wrapped up in a project.

Matt had never met someone with such intense focus. In general, people's thought ran several tracks at a time – deciding what to cook for dinner, wondering who would be eliminated from "Idol" this week, reminding themselves that little Jenny had a ballet recital this weekend – but not Mohinder. While most people were like a 2 lane street, he was like a locomotive, plowing forward at a break-neck pace, giving little or no notice to anything off to the side. It was frustrating when Matt needed him to break away from his objective for a little while, but it was probably also what made Mohinder such a great scientist and so passionate about everything he did, so Matt had to admire him for it.

Finally arriving home, Matt turned the key and opened the door, letting Molly run in ahead of him.

"What do you want for dinner tonight, kid?" Matt asked Molly.

"Are you cooking?" Molly asked by way of reply.

"Do you have a death wish?" Matt shot back.

"When is Mohinder coming home? _He _cooks."

Matt couldn't help feeling a little hurt over this. He was trying his hardest to be the best dad he could be, but there were some things he just couldn't do. He supposed he should feel grateful that Mohinder could pick up the slack in those areas, but he couldn't deny a twinge of jealousy. Still, he replied amicably, "Your guess is better than mine. Where is he right now?"

Molly closed her eyes and scrunched her face in concentration. After a moment she responded, "On an airplane."

"Could you tell where he was flying?"

"Over water, close to Egypt."

Well, that could mean anything. Mohinder hadn't mentioned returning during their last conversation, so he could just be en route to the next stop on his tour. The last call had been two days ago, and mostly Matt just talked about Molly – her school work, the nightmares – and filled Mohinder in on any important details since their last conversation. Matt filled him in on all the unimportant details too. Actually, Matt just kept talking about anything he could think of to keep Mohinder on the phone even the smallest bit longer. It was times like that when Matt lamented that his powers didn't work over phone lines, because he would give anything to know what Mohinder was thinking. Did he miss them? Did he worry about them? He always sounded so detached over the phone, but Matt was sure there were things he wasn't saying.

These conversations had made Matt realize that sometimes, what we don't say is exactly what we mean, because instead of saying "Goodbye" he never said, "I can't wait until I can see you again, and be near you again, and hear your voice and your laugh again." And he never said, "Seeing your smile even for a moment, all bright eyes and perfect teeth, makes my chest tighten and my heart skip and I become worried that it won't beat again."

The evening was the standard mix of Chinese take-out, math homework, and TV dramas that Molly probably shouldn't be watching, winding down with Matt tucking Molly into bed. The nightmares had been worse than usual the night before, so Matt stayed in the chair beside her bed until Molly reluctantly dozed off. Matt hadn't realized he'd fallen off as well until he was awakened by a soft sounds of life in the other room. Matt quietly crept across the bedroom, grabbing his gun along the way. He quickly rounded the corner, raising his gun, and shouted, "Freeze!"

Mohinder gave a startled just then cast an exasperated look at Matt. It took a moment for Matt to register it was Mohinder standing in front of him and not a burglar (or worse). He lowered his gun and stepped further into the kitchen, close enough for the two men to hold a whispered conversation.

Sometimes, we don't say too much, and it builds up making everything we do say into exactly what we don't mean. So instead of saying, "I thought about you everyday, and I'm just so glad you're home because me and Molly are lost without you," Matt selected an appropriately accusatory tone and spat out, "What are you doing home? I thought you were in Cairo."

"Haiti, actually." Mohinder either didn't notice or chose to ignore the hostility in Matt's statement. "My plane got in a couple of hours ago. I'll be working here in the city from now on."

"I thought you were in the field."

"They're setting me up with a place downtown, which means I'll be around to help with Molly." He said this all with that impossible grin Matt couldn't keep out of his thoughts while Mohinder was jet-setting across the world.

"Which means you'll be doing your spy work in our own back yard. Great." Mohinder looked momentarily taken aback, only just realizing Matt's upset tone.

"Someone's grouchy when they don't get their sleep." He remarked in an infuriatingly off-hand way that seemed to light a fire under all the tension Matt had building up while Mohinder was gone.

"Molly's struggling. Nightmares, problems in school, I can't babysit her and you at the same time."

"And why would I need babysitting?"

"You're in over your head." Matt said seriously.

"Thank you. but I-" There was that tone again. It made Matt want to smack him silly and kiss him senseless all at once. He cut Mohinder off abruptly.

"They _abducted_ me, kept me prisoner. I know you think you're going to beat them at their own game, but… Mohinder, no offense but you're a professor. You're not 007." Unspoken words were flying like bullets through Matt's mind now. All the fear and worry of the last several months suddenly weighed down on him and he wanted nothing more than to take Mohinder and Molly and just run away from all this noise, go into hiding and never hear another word about The Company.

"I told myself I would do whatever it took to take down the company. That'show I can help Molly." If Matt had been listening he would have heard Mohinder not add, "_And you_."

"You want to help Molly? Don't die on her."

Mohinder bristled as if he were going to retort, but instead just shook his head and turned to walk away. Matt grabbed him by the arm and turned him back around before he had the chance to escape.

They stared awkwardly at each other for a moment, Matt still not releasing his grasp on Mohinder. Just when Mohinder looked ready to shake him off and walk away again, Matt had a sudden realization. Sometimes what we don't say is more important than what we say, but never does what we can articulate hold more weight than what we say with a kiss.


End file.
